


Without a Second Thought

by strwbrryklly



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, F/F, Mild Sexual Content, Past Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-28
Updated: 2019-10-28
Packaged: 2021-01-05 11:30:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21207809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/strwbrryklly/pseuds/strwbrryklly
Summary: As soon as Moira had finished speaking, the circle of businesspeople erupted into a spiel of questions, and behind her, Amélie felt Ashe tense under the bombardment of queries. Without a second thought, she reached her hand backward.Ashe grasped it with a quiet sigh.





	Without a Second Thought

**Author's Note:**

  * For [electrapng](https://archiveofourown.org/users/electrapng/gifts).

> a little birthday gift for my friend lena, bc she loves ouihaw. i hope you have a great day, lena!
> 
> this fic started off with me just being gay for ashe in her socialite skin, and wanting to write about it, and then it formed into...whatever this is, lmao. what can i say, i love angst.
> 
> this is my first foray into writing overwatch fic, so please be kind!

“Are you ready yet?” Amélie queried, fastening the clasp on her necklace and delicately shifting the iridescent pendant to lie in the dip between her collarbones. “Akande will not be pleased if we are late to this.”

“Gimme a minute!” Ashe’s muffled voice came through the bathroom door. “I haven’t worn something this fancy in ages. Takes some getting used to.”

When Amélie had mentioned the Talon function she had to attend over dinner one night, she had not expected Ashe to have much interest in it. But her companion had raised her eyebrows, cogs turning in her head, before, to Amélie’s surprise, offering herself as her date.

And for a vicious outlaw who runs her infamous gang with an iron fist (or in her case, a semi-automatic rifle and a stick of dynamite), Elizabeth Caledonia Ashe certainly looked good in musk pink.

“Hmm.” Amélie sniffed, reaching for her indigo clutch laying on the table by the hotel room door. She gave Ashe a once over, eyes dancing up and down her body in masked appreciation. “Not bad.”

“That’s it?” Ashe scoffed. “_Not bad_?” She glanced down at her own outfit, straightening her jacket and smoothing down her pants. “I think I clean up pretty good. Haven’t had to pull out this outfit in years.”

“You do look…” Amélie paused, searching for the right word. Ashe was gorgeous – more so than usual, white hair pinned up underneath her dark, broad-brimmed hat, gold accents on her pink jacket gleaming in the light of the setting sun streaming through the hotel room window. However, Amélie couldn’t tell her that – she could give Ashe an inch and the other would take a mile, preening under her rare comments of praise. She couldn’t give too much away. “Adequate.”

That was the closest Ashe would get to a compliment from the fellow sniper, and she knew it, eyes glittering as a satisfied smirk crept onto her face. “Thank you.”

“The bow on the hat is a little much, though.”

Ashe’s smug façade cracked as she snorted, rolling her eyes. “Oh, come on, now you’re just being pedantic. Cut me some slack.” She stepped towards the door, reaching for her own purse. “Let’s just get on with it.”

“I never said you had to come with me, you know.” Amélie reminded her lightly as she opened the door.

She watched as Ashe sauntered past her, noting the deliberate sway of her hips with an exasperated huff. “I know,” her date responded, voice lowered as she entered the hallway. “But I could never say no to a night with _you _all dressed up.”

“Flattery doesn’t work on me, Elizabeth.”

Ashe shot her a cocky grin. “Won’t stop me from trying, _ma chérie.”_

* * *

The networking event was in full swing by the time they arrived. Amélie scanned the room curiously, searching for any familiar faces among the Talon agents, scientists, and investors. She noted Maximilien to her left, surrounded by a small group of people, and further into the crowd, the stark white of Akande’s suit jacket against the dark clothes of his associates.

Beside her, Ashe muttered to herself as she straightened the collar of her blouse restlessly. “Do they really need to be so thorough about checking for weapons? This is a _Talon _event, for God’s sake.”

“A business event,” Amélie reminded her, waving over a waiter to pluck a drink from his platter. “Weapons prohibited.”

Snatching a drink of her own, Ashe grumbled her dissent. “Not even a damn knife allowed,” she said, pausing to take a sip as the waiter moved to another group of people. “I feel naked.”

Amélie did understand her discomfort to an extent – for years now, she had felt more at ease with a rifle in her hands than at any other time. With Ashe by her side these past couple of months, however, she had begun to feel more… secure. Not _safe_, exactly – safety was a concept Amélie was almost sure she would never understand again – but having another person by her side out of choice and not business obligation did give her a sense of stability and assurance that she hadn’t felt in a long time.

But she was not meant to feel.

“Lacroix!” Amélie turned at the sound of her name to see Moira approaching them, her shock of red hair a startling contrast to her black dress shirt and pants. She towered over the other guests, thin and pale, and eyes lingered on her as she passed other guests to reach Amélie. Beside her, Ashe tensed, narrowing her eyes.

Amélie nodded to Moira as she stopped short in front of them both. “O’Deorain.”

“Good to see you here.” Moira responded politely, eyeing Ashe with mild interest before returning her gaze to Amélie. “I have a few people expecting to talk to you.”

“Oh?” Amélie raised her eyebrows. “What do they wish to discuss?”

Moira hummed, clasping her hands together. “They are curious to learn more about our…” Her eyes flickered back to Ashe, who was standing rigid before her. “…Reconditioning methods.”

“You mean your _brainwashing_?” Ashe cut in, voice scathing. Moira regarded her with a long, irritated look.

“If that’s what you insist on calling it,” she replied, her words sharp. “You’re welcome to join us, if you can restrain yourself from your brash comments. I’m sure Akande wouldn’t be impressed if you drove away some of our investors.”

Ashe frowned, pink lightly colouring her cheeks in a subtle display of discontent. Amélie looked between them, observing the standoff quietly; the tension between her date and the scientist was evident. What had caused this, she didn’t know, but she tucked the information into a corner of her mind, deciding to bring it up with Ashe later.

“We’ll join you,” she said quickly, surprising the two other women out of their impasse. “Where are they?”

Without another word, Moira turned on her heel and led the pair to a small cluster of businessmen and women. The group’s attention immediately deviated to her, and Amélie straightened her shoulders under their stares as Moira introduced her to the curious crowd.

As soon as Moira had finished speaking, the circle of businesspeople erupted into a spiel of questions, and behind her, Amélie felt Ashe tense under the bombardment of queries. Without a second thought, she reached her hand backward.

Ashe grasped it with a quiet sigh.

* * *

The evening continued at a lazy pace, and once they had left Moira and her posse behind, Ashe relaxed significantly. They mingled, striking up casual conversations about business at Talon, and Ashe turned her charm on instantly, all smiles and compliments and subtle persuasions. There was no denying that she had a way with words, and while she spun stories putting Talon under a shining spotlight, Amélie could understand how she united the gangs of American southwest under a peaceful truce. It was impressive to watch.

As the event came to a close and groups of businessmen and Talon agents alike began to filter out of the ballroom and into the cool night air, Amélie felt an eye on her and her date, watching as they moved across the room. Her suspicions were confirmed when in her peripheral vision, she spotted Akande approaching her and Ashe, fixing his tie along the way.

“Ms Lacroix,” he greeted her with a stiff nod, before turning his attention to her date. “Ms Ashe. I must say it was a surprise to see you here.”

Ashe shrugged, leaning unconsciously into Amélie’s side. “Just here to support my date, Mr Ogundimu. Mighty fine room you booked out for this. Especially appreciated the champagne.”

Akande chuckled, laughter rumbling deeply in his throat. “I’m glad you enjoyed it. I hope you’re not too drunk, though – I have something to discuss.”

“Do you have a new mission for me?” Amélie asked.

“No mission,” Akande said with a shake of his head, adjusting his cufflinks idly. “More of a business proposition. For you, Ashe.”

“Oh?” Ashe raised her eyebrows as Akande’s attentive gaze settled on her. “What sort of proposition?”

He took her hand in both of his, an act Amélie could almost consider gentle if she didn’t know the power he held in his thick, muscled arms.

“You have been a good friend to Talon, Ashe,” he said with a charming smile that almost reached his eyes. “Your leadership of Deadlock has kept us in control of the southwest, and I could not thank you enough. But times are changing, and we must change with them.”

Ashe narrowed her eyes, other hand placed on her hip. “And how, exactly, must we change?”

Akande eyed her with an intensity that made Amélie feel like an unwelcome onlooker into the conversation, as if she shouldn’t be there. “Deadlock and Talon have been working well as allies, but I believe it is time for us to become more than that. I suggest we…take Deadlock into Talon’s folds.”

For a moment Ashe was frozen in place, before responding, voice low and simmering with something Amélie couldn’t quite place. “_Excuse me?_”

“You would retain power over your men, and still run your operations however you pleased. It would be only a surface change; all inner workings of your group will stay the same.”

Amélie watched intently as the rage filtered through Ashe’s eyes at Akande’s every passing word, before wrenching her hand out of his grasp.

“Bullshit,” she snarled, voice laced with poison.

Akande blinked, taken aback by the outburst. “I’m sorry?”

“As you should be,” Ashe snapped, before stepping closer into Akande’s space, facing him with barely a few inches between them. “How _dare _you suggest that I give Deadlock to Talon? I have built this family from the ground up, I have led them for decades, I have _bled _for them. And you expect me to give that up just to become Talon’s bitch?”

The surprise on Akande’s face settled into a look of barely restrained anger, jaw clenched and vein in his temple throbbing underneath the skin. “You would not become—”

“Don’t lie to me,” Ashe interrupted, planting a single threatening finger against his chest. “I know exactly what would happen if I said yes. I would be nothing more than a goon under your command, and lose everything I have worked on for my entire life. I refuse to let that happen.”

As soon as it came, the fire in Ashe’s eyes hardened to ice, and she took a slow step backward. “Thank you for your offer,” she said coldly, shoulders stiff, “and while I am content to stay an ally to Talon, I do not wish to join them. I will talk to you on Monday about our next weapons delivery.”

At those final words, Ashe turned to stalk out the door, a small hand gesture beckoning Amélie to follow.

Not even shooting a glance in Akande’s direction, she did.

* * *

“I can’t believe he’d even _suggest _something like that!” Ashe exclaimed, tossing her purse carelessly across the room as she entered. Amélie followed her inside, catching the door before it slammed shut, and placed her own purse on the table in the hallway.

“Please calm down,” she said gently in an attempt to soothe her date. “We do not wish to disturb the other guests.”

“Calm down?” Ashe whirled on her, flinging the dark hat off her head in turn. “_Calm down_? You expect me to just shut up and let Talon destroy everything I have created?”

Amélie fell silent, and Ashe settled.

“Deadlock is my life’s work,” Ashe continued, unbuckling her belt and shouldering off her jacket. “I built it from the ashes of my old life, and made it into my family. If I give Deadlock to Talon, I’ll lose everything I have. The people I love, the legacy I’ve made…I would lose who I am.”

She glanced up from the floor to look at Amélie so intensely she felt like she was burning.

“I don’t want to be brainwashed into becoming a mindless killer.”

The words felt like a knife in her chest, and Amélie could barely speak, her throat constricting around the words. “Like me.”

Ashe dropped her gaze back down, her next words solemn.

“It’s only been a few months, but…I can see you changing. You were heartless; just a shell trained to kill. But you do things now – you ask how I am, you hold my hand, you talk to me like you _care_. It shows me who you used to be.”

_Who I used to be._

The memories came to her in an instant. Ribbons in her hair, blisters on her toes. Laughter in her ears, her heart swelling with joy. Her husband’s smile, his eyes bright.

The pain ripping through her skull.

Her cries falling to deaf ears.

Her heartbeat slowing.

Her fingertips turning blue.

Gérard’s pleading voice before she shot him in the chest.

Fear was always a powerful motivator.

_I do not want that again._

Her heart froze over.

“You’re wrong.”

Ashe blinked. “What?”

“You’re wrong,” Amélie repeated, reaching back to unzip her dress. She let it fall to the floor in a heap around her feet, stepping out of her shoes and into Ashe’s space. “I do not care.”

Eyes wide, Ashe gulped. Amélie leaned against her, hand on her chest, and the slightest pressure of her palm pushed her backward onto the bed behind her.

Amélie stood above her, undoing the clasp on her bra and dropping it at their feet. Ashe sucked in a sharp breath as she moved, slowly, lowering herself onto straddling her thighs.

“It’s best you do not have an outburst like that to Akande again,” she said, voice low as they lay down, chest to chest. “He may enjoy chaos, but not when it comes to his own allies. It would truly be a shame if you got out of line, and I would have to…clean up the mess you left behind.”

Frozen still in surprise while Amélie spoke, Ashe finally moved.

“Would you really do it?” she asked, dragging a hand up Amélie’s thigh to trace the hem of her underwear. “Would you kill me?”

Amélie hovered above her, deliberating. Ashe was an amazing gunman, and her abilities to negotiate and lead through tough situations were to be admired. It would certainly be a waste of skill and prowess to kill her, anybody could see that. But that was not what Ashe meant, and the unspoken words hung between them like a cotton thread.

_Do you love me?_

She had to admit, Ashe’s company was…tolerable. Almost enjoyable, if Amélie didn’t know any better. But joy wasn’t possible, not anymore, and what dominated any spark of warmth she could have had for the woman underneath her was the overwhelming feeling of…nothingness.

“Don’t make an enemy of Talon,” she purred in response, sliding one of her hands under Ashe’s shirt to feel the tense of her stomach muscles, “and you won’t have to find out.”

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading! if you liked it, kudos and comments are greatly appreciated!
> 
> you can find me on tumblr and twitter @strwbrryklly!


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